


Sisters

by Bagheera95



Category: Rigel Black Series - murkybluematter
Genre: (as of FF13), Canon Compliant, Future Fic, Gen, Rigel Black Chronicles Masquerade 2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:36:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28893033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bagheera95/pseuds/Bagheera95
Summary: I grew up with a ghost for an older sister.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 62
Collections: Rigel Black Chronicles Masquerade 2021





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “Someday I must read this scholar Everyone. He seems to have written so much--all of it wrong.”

Mum tells me that I’m the only one she was never able to fool. 

Sometimes I sneak into her room—so bare compared to mine—and lie on her bed. I stare up at the ceiling, trying to find a pattern in the cracks; pretending she’s lying there with me. 

I grew up with a ghost for an older sister. Her presence echoed in the cavernous Potions lab swimming pool. It balanced on the edge of my parents’ voices, in the shadows in their eyes. 

There’s not a child in our world who doesn’t know the name of my sister, and those of her co-conspirators: Arcturus “Archie” Black and Hermione Granger. 

Of their ambitious ruse: sneaking a halfblood into Hogwarts under it’s pureblood exclusive legislation. Of how the facade crumbled when said halfblood faced down Dark Lord Voldemort to emerge the winner of the True Triwizard Tournament. 

Everyone knows it was this dramatic revelation that cracked open politics, garnering a bipartisan commitment to roll back the reactive Pureblood First Initiative legislation. After all, how could any proposal sponsored by Malfoy and Lestrange and backed by Marchbanks and Goldentower fail? With Dumbledore’s blessing and Lord Riddle’s unexpected neutrality, Hogwarts was reopened to _all_ British magicals. 

All it cost was my sister. 

* * *

Everyone says she was lucky. To be granted exile, rather than subjected to a Dementor Quest. 

_Maybe they’re right._

But for all the things Everyone knows, there’s plenty they don’t. 

It’s affected us all. Mum and Dad. Uncle Sirius, Uncle Remus, Uncle Severus and Uncle Regulus. Archie and Hermione, of course (with no small dose of fame, especially given Harry’s absence.)

* * *

And then there’s me. 

It’s not easy, growing up in the shadow of a hero. 

But then, I have my secrets, too. 


	2. Chapter 2

It’s Caelum who first clued me in. Mum loves to talk about my intuition—how as a baby, I could tell the difference between the pair of tricksters, no matter how they switched—an insight only evident in hindsight. 

It’s easy to look back and imagine I was that smart. Merlin knows Mum questioned her lack of attention to her eldest daughter often enough. How much further is it to imagine that all it would have taken was a closer look. 

To be honest, I never gave Mum’s claims much credit. What’s more likely, after all? That as an infant, I was more perceptive than literally everyone else on the planet _(or so it seems, some days)_. Or that guilt and grief have touched Mum’s memories, highlighting certain moments and buried others, feeding into such an improbable narrative.

Maybe it’s cruel of me. But most days, it’s easier to let Mum swim in her guilt than try and reason with her over the impossible. 

* * *

Then Caelum—Caelum Lestrange—approached Uncle Remus and I during a Diagon Alley trip. And he offered me a “keepsake” of my sister. Claimed he’d learned all he could from it, and wanted me to have it. 

Well, it’s not the first time someone approached our family like that. Eager to share a memory or token that linked them to _The Girl Who Lied,_ to _The Boy Who Wasn’t_. Plus, the political divides aren’t as strong these days as they were just after the Split.

Truth is, I was curious. After all, the tattered book he offered wasn’t even about Potions. Plus, Caelum felt tense, but trustworthy. Maybe I _was_ just jumping at shadows, but this felt important. 

It wasn’t an easy read, but that sense of significance drove me on. This was my sister’s book. And she’d given it to Caelum.

_Gifted? Lent? It was hard to say._

And now he’d passed it onto me. If there’s one thing I shared with my legendary sister, it’s her stubbornness. It was _mine_ , and I would read it myself. 

* * *

Dry and archaic, _A Treatise on the Wielding of Wandless Power_ took me time to decode. Longer still to comprehend. Plus, I was hindered by my determination to keep it to myself. Especially combined with the awareness that I could never spend too long alone without sparking fear in my family. Gradually though, my persistence prevailed.

‘Don’t judge a book by its cover’ people say. As far as books go, _Treatise_ didn’t look like much. Just another old, ratty hand-me-down of a book. Something you might find when clearing out your grandmother’s attic, or at the back of a shelf in a used book store. Not hidden deep in a dark corner to ensure its secrets were kept; nothing so ominous. Just drifted backwards from decades of disinterest, abandoned to gently degrade into dust.

But the content. The content is _radical_.


	3. Chapter 3

No one sneaks up on me. Or pulls a prank I don’t allow.

I’ve always considered it as something of a strange quirk; a knack. But when I started practicing wandless magic— _the book was right there. What did you expect?_ —it became something more.

One of my sister’s old books—left behind in her haste—talks about “auras”.

The one time I dared to mention it to Hermione, she embarked upon a long lecture on “synaesthesia”.

Mrs Hurst calls it “the Sight”, although she claims she’s never seen it as strong.

Ultimately, the name doesn’t matter so much. I can… sense people’s intentions. Sort of. Nothing as deep or reliable as empathy. Just, a general sense or flavour of a person. Enough to know that Caelum was uncomfortable but offered the book to me in good faith.

It’s almost like reading a room, I guess – if tempers are fraying, I can _taste_ the tension in the air.

Or the cloak of salty grief that enfolds Potter Place, overlaying the buttery pleasure and effervescent sparkle and seeping into the cracks my sister left.

* * *

It’s how I got to know Mrs Hurst and the alleys; really know them. The evasions in her story and in Hermione’s, they grated on me. The way their conversations together were threaded with an extra layer, one they didn’t share with others in the room.

I would have been about eight when I lost patience. I’d already started on my magic by then.

I sneaked after them one afternoon, ducking under the sensing charms and skipping over the alert wires, still not fully realizing that they didn’t glow like moonbeams for everyone. Sure, I had to squint a little to see them with the sunlight bouncing bright off the cobblestones, but if they were up to something _really_ secret, they’d use better spells, right? At least, that’s what I assumed at the time; how I justified it in my mind.

I’m honestly not sure who was most surprised when I warned Hermione that the bandages she was being offered weren’t to be used—they throbbed a menacing deep purple beneath the white linen—and was consequently introduced to the Rogue and its latest troubles.

* * *

All up, it wasn’t long before I found some of the freedom from family oversight I craved, running through the lower alleys under the ‘supervision’ of trusted Hermione.

And it’s in the alleys, exposed to that mixing pot of Wizarding Britain, that I came to understand.

Magicals glow, humans pulse, goblins gleam and vampires shimmer.

But _everyone_ has magic.

And I can see it.

From there, it’s just a matter of finding the people with the will to form a mold, the ones with a conduit to spread it, those with strength to spare, and bringing them all together.

You don’t need a wand. You don’t even need an instinctive connection to your magic.

Just discipline, precision and focus.

Working together, using _Treatise_ ’s philosophy as the guide? A group of wandless beasts and beings can access depths of magic the aristocracy could barely fathom.


	4. Chapter 4

My sister changed the world.

* * *

So will I.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written as part of the 2021 Masquerade Event on the HGSS discord. 
> 
> Participants wrote a piece that was:  
> • 1000 to 2000 words  
> • Complete  
> • Non-explicit with no sex scenes  
> • Fandom: Rigel Black Series - murkybluematter and/or recursive fic based on it  
> • English  
> • Never posted anywhere else  
> • No sock accounts
> 
> While there were no required themes or prompts, all works were posted anonymously with the aim to prevent people from guessing your identity. As such, it was recommended you write characters/pairings/themes/styles which you usually don’t to throw people off.
> 
> If you would like to join the fun, the HGSS discord server is the place to be!


End file.
